Memories in the Windchimes
by muffnbootz
Summary: Summer afternoons often remind Ichigo of his mother and her advice. -oneshot-


**Bleach and all its characters belong to Tite Kubo. **

* * *

He wanders down the upper hallway of his house, in baggy black cargo pants and a tank top. Bare feet slapping the floor, he wipes the back of his neck, growling at the fact that half of his house's air conditioning unit suddenly refuses to work. The summer heat clashes with mid-winter type cool inside of his house and the in-between luke-warm air bothers him. He stops in the middle of the hallway, under a duct that is actually blasting cold air. He sighs in relief, just as a shorts-and-tank top clad Rukia pushes past him. Her hair is completely pinned up, odds and ends poking out everywhere.

"Excuse you!"

She sticks her tongue out at him. "Don't stop in the middle of the walkway, retard." As she briskly steps down the stair, her voice travels back up to him. "Oh, and I don't want to hear any of your baby whining whenever a Hollow appears, by the way."

He imagines tripping her. Then sighs - she looks awfully awkward in his old middle school basketball shorts that are way too big for her.

_Freakish midget_. Then, he grins at the thought.

As he begins to move again, he looks over to the side, and notices his dad's bedroom door open. As he reaches to close it, he stops. Noticing the bed, he stares at the empty right side. His eyes narrow softly as he remembers his late mother's occasional afternoon naps on days like this. He walks in, and sits on what was once her side, staring out of the window directly in front of him. It's closed – this room is one of the few that have cold air running through them. Right then, he feels a fatigue caused by the sudden changes in temperature, as well as the sudden urge to relive a peaceful memory. He flops onto his side.

Lying there, he stares out the window at the warm, calm day outside. The clouds pass in front of the sun, and in response, then room shifts from dark to light. Outside, the deep throated clang of his mother's favorite wind chimes carry in the wind. His father, nor anyone else in the house, had ever had the heart to take them down.

Somewhere overhead, an airplane passes overhead, close.

"_Mama!"_

_The little boy dashes into his parent's room to where his mother lies on her side of the bed. Using his running start, he places both hands down on the other side for balance and launches himself onto the bed, landing on his knees. As a result, he bounces slightly and flops down on his side. As he wriggles his way closer to his mother, she turns to her right side to face him, a smile as bright as the sun outside reaching ear to ear._

"_Hello, my baby." Her cheeks rise and her eyes crinkle, a twinkle glowing in them despite their dark color. Her child worms his head into the hole her arm has made, and he pulls her hand out from behind her head and wraps it around himself. He buries his face in her neck momentarily, as he begins to wriggle once again to make himself more comfortable. "Are you ok, mama?" He stops, and looks at his mother with serious eyes. "Why're you sleeping s'early?"_

_She gives a tired chuckle. "Because mama's tired, that's why. I'm fine, baby."_

"_Why're you tired?" His serious eyes widen, and he pulls himself up and sits on his knees. _

"_Because you and your little sisters have lots of energy."_

_His little eyes shrink down into a hurt look. "Y'mean, me an' Karin an' Yuzu hurt you?"_

_Her mouth forms a wide 'o' shape, as she exclaims, "Oh, no, baby! That's not it at all!" She grabs him into a bear hug and kisses his neck, despite his protests. "Mamaaaa!" He shoots her a small scowl, and she loudly laughs. "What, your mother can't give you a little kiss?"_

"_Girls have cooties!"_

_She beams at him, a snort reaching into the sudden squeal she gives. "Not your mother, you goof! Did you hear that from your daddy?"_

_Her little boy crosses his arms, pouting. "Yes."_

_Her laugh shrinks into a giggle. "You should know better than to listen to your father when he tells you anything about girls." She looks down in his still pouting face. Grinning, she grabs a hold of him again and hugs tightly. "Oh, sweetheart. I was just going to lie down for a while as your sisters took their nap. How did afternoon practice go with your father taking you? Come here, lay down next to me and tell mama about your day." _

_Falling down next to her, he scoots closer as he looks into her face. "Aw, mama. Can we talk about something else?"_

_Running her soft hand through his hair, Masaki looks at her little one with a questioning glance. "Oh? Why not, dear?"_

_Masaki once again watches her son's tiny face wrinkle into a downward scowl. He doesn't answer, and his bottom lip plumps forward. Taking his chin, she pushes it back up to face her with gentle firmness. "Ichigo, tell mommy what happened."_

_His bottom lip now quivering, and his brown eyes filling with tears, he says in a shaky voice, "I had a bad day, mama. I can't do nothin' right!" His chest heaves, and his body shakes. He is trying his hardest not to cry, not to break down in front of her. She notices. He's growing up, she thinks to herself._

"_Now, Ichigo. No crying. Mommy can't understand what you're saying when you're crying." She wipes at his tears, and he fights the sobs down. After a few minutes, he settles himself back down and presses his face into his mother's neck. _

"_Tatsuki-chan beat me again, mama. It's not fair!" He bites down the tears. "I don't wanna go to fightin' class no more!"_

"_Oh, baby." She holds in a chuckle. "Baby, that's all? You can't quit your class just because of that."_

_He sniffs. "Why not?"_

"_Because." She rubs the back of his neck. "You can't fear failure. You have to get back up and try again."_

_Sniffling, he asks, "What's d'you mean?"_

_He stares at her, with the look in his eyes that tell her he is listening. He will hear whatever she has to say, so she grasps the opportunity to sew a life lesson into the heart of her young son. "Your whole life, you will have to deal with many situations and people who will try to discourage you. Everyone will fall a few times in their lives, but those with true courage stand back up again, dust themselves off, and keep going, knowing that life will get better. Do you understand what I'm telling you, Ichigo?"_

_He stares at her quietly, all tears gone. His breathing calms, with the exceptions of little hiccups. "I get it, mama."_

_She smiles, genuinely and filled with pride. "But whatever happens," she lets a slight warning tone filter into her voice, "don't ever let it make you bitter. Do you understand what that means? Don't ever let it affect your ability to love. Be strong, not for just yourself, but for others, as well." He says nothing, but gives a few 'hics!' in reply._

"_Do you understand little one?"_

_He nods. "Yes, mama."_

_She rubs the tear-soaked skin under his eyes. "That's my little Ichigo." She pulls him as tight as she can to her, and kisses him on the forehead. "Now, tell me about your day. Before your fighting class."_

The bed indents slightly, and Ichigo can feel the downward sloping of the mattress. Throwing his body up, he twists around to see who interrupted his afternoon reminiscent. Realizing who the culprit is, he calms slightly.

"Ichigo?" The tiny, black haired woman sitting on the other side of the bed raises an eyebrow at him.

He sets himself up properly. "What is it?"

"Uhh…" She looks down to her hands. It's then he notices the juice box resting in them. He shakes his head.

"Rukia… you still haven't figured those things out?"

She glares, and throws the box at him. "Just open it! I'm _thirsty_!"

"You are such a brat." He pulls the straw off of the back of the box, slipping it out from its plastic covering. Grinning, he catches her off guard as he throws a pillow at her head. Her nose wrinkles as her eyes twitch, grabbing for a pillow to retaliate with.

_But whatever happens, don't ever let it affect your ability to love._

_Yeah, mom,_ he thinks to himself. _I get it now._


End file.
